


The Last Time: Part I

by orphan_account, radxmauls



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Darth Maul Needs a Hug, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Jedi, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Religious Conflict, Self-Indulgent, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26301922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/radxmauls/pseuds/radxmauls
Summary: Six months after being saved from a planet on which you were both stranded, Maul has finally contacted you to request your presence in one of Coruscant's unattainable penthouse suites...
Relationships: Darth Maul/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Reader
Comments: 34
Kudos: 139





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, fellow Maul fans!
> 
> This is a story idea that has been playing in my mind for weeks now. The idea is that you, a Jedi Knight, ended up stranded on an unknown world with Maul after you stowed away on his ship after discovering his presence whilst on an unrelated mission. The ship crashed and you had to work together to stay alive, which formed an unintentional force bond between you. It's very much enemies-to-lovers, with the tension building until you shared a kiss right before being rescued. This fic is the aftermath. If people enjoy this I may write more. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy, please know that this is entirely self-indulgent so I can't promise that he will be totally in character. Anyway, I figured there would be other people who might like it anyway so I decided to post.
> 
> Install the InteractiveFics chrome plugin (that changes Y/N to your actual name) and enjoy.
> 
> PS: Maul only lost the lower half of his legs when fighting Obi-Wan because I said so.

You feel out of place up here. 

You are used to acting as a glorified guard for senators and the like, but that doesn't mean you've grown accustomed to the privileges that their lives can afford. At times you've eaten their outlandish foods and sometimes slept in overindulgent beds, but your familiar lodging back at the Jedi temple is humble in both size and possessions. The only thing you can truly say belongs to you as an individual is the lightsaber at your hip. The wealthy lifestyle is not something you're used to, nor is it something you strive for.

Of course, the invitation to meet him here had come as no surprise. As the Lord of an expansive crime syndicate, Maul has his hand in many illegal pots. It is only natural that he has managed to barter with the upper classes within the Republic. Forge papers and whatever else to purchase the penthouse of one of the many towering apartments up on Coruscant's surface.

The force crackles with excitement as you exit the elevator. He's here, as he said he would be. Alone, too. As are you… Oh, what would Obi-Wan have to say about this? The thought threatens to sicken you. He would be disgusted. 

_Former padawan of Mace Windu, oh how you have fallen._

You should feel guilty. You should have spoken with the council as soon as you received the transmission and told them he's on Coruscant. But you didn't. What you _did_ is ask Senator Chuchi to cover for you by contacting the council to request your company for the night. Riyo, your ever faithful friend, did exactly as you asked without question.

You don't deserve such loyalty.

There's no need to knock. No. As you step up to the door it glides open, and you're immediately faced with the man you haven't seen in six months.

Six months. Six _kriffing_ months since you were finally rescued from that force forsaken planet. Six months of having to come to terms with sharing an unintentional force bond with a Sith. Six months without him, when for three months prior you spent every _day_ together.

Six months since he was rescued too, and in all that time he has used _none_ of his influence to contact you.

The anger hits you the second your eyes meet. He's here. Perfectly fine, wearing the same dark tunics he'd worn the day you met. The day you planned to fight to the death, but ended up having to work together to avoid going down with the rest of his ship.

"Y/N…"

He speaks your name as though it's a prayer, and you swear your heart cracks at the joy in his eyes.

"You took your time," is all you manage to say. You want to exude the same happiness he is, or perhaps some of the searing anger you feel… but you just sound numb. You step by him and into the apartment, letting your eyes travel from the expensive L-shaped sofa to the marbled kitchen counters.

"I feared that contacting you sooner would cause suspicion." You sense that this is the truth through your shared bond, but you feel too much like a wounded animal to just let it all go.

"I spent _months_ wondering if you were still alive!" 

You're being dramatic. You both know that you would have felt the bond severe if he had rejoined with the force. Maul scoffs, turning away from you in favour of the view outside his outlandish balcony. He gazes out with his hands clasped behind his back, looking just as regal as he had even when wearing moth-eaten t-shirts and greyed slacks. 

"I suppose I should be glad that you are angry with me," he mutters. Bathed in twilight, the Coruscanti skyline looks magnificent. The lights in the sectors below look like artificial stars from this high up, and the traffic appears so far away that the transports are akin to ants.

"Why's that?"

"It means that you have missed me."

He turns away from the window now, golden eyes brimming with intensity as he gauges your reaction. The look he wears brings heat to your cheeks and has you shifting your weight. This is dangerous territory. 

"Do you have anything to drink that doesn't cost an obscene amount of credits?"

His lips quip at the corner in a would-be smirk. He's being careful. Willing to take a chance when it provides itself but not pushing you too far. _It won't work_ , you tell yourself. _I am only here to talk._

You know why he's not bothering to hide his feelings. You remember that fateful night far more than you'd care to admit aloud. It should instill shame. _Should_ be enough to have you marching up to the council chambers and resigning from the Order… but no one knows about it, so what would be the point in depriving the Jedi of one of their best Knights for a momentary lapse in judgement?

It was exquisite, though. Months of unresolved tension. Of bickering, full-blown arguing. Moments of calm. Silence. Companionship. Occasions where your loyalties didn't matter. Where you laughed and joked, spoke frankly about your personal views and shared stories that no other living being will ever get to hear. Especially in Maul's case, considering the nature of his path.

Then, a few nights before you were discovered, you had found a bottle of Alderaaian wine. Maul's tolerance was typically excellent considering he'd never had alcohol in his life, but yours was… well, the opposite. Your composure slipped. Sitting there at the end of the bed, arms occasionally brushing as you spoke. He had looked fiercely beautiful in the firelight. You couldn't resist any longer.

You had never kissed anyone before… but it didn't matter to him. He held your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him like your life depended on it. It's plagued your dreams for many nights since. Particularly in regards to how it could have ended differently. What might have happened had you not broken it off and locked yourself in the bathroom? If you had let him guide you into his lap and kiss you deeper…

"A Dathomirian blend of tea," Maul's soft explanation pulls you from that trail of thoughts. He's holding two mugs, one outstretched for you.

"Thanks," you cough, cursing your cheeks for flushing so easily. If he notices your flustered state - which you're absolutely sure he will given your bond - he doesn't say anything.

"Please, sit," He gestures to the sofa as he heads over himself. You follow on, sitting beside him on the unfamiliar dark leather.

"I'd ask how you've managed to afford all this, but I don't think I'd like the answer."

"You might, actually," Maul chuckles, "The credits _used_ to belong to an illegal mining operation. Really, Savage and I were doing the universe a favour."

"Yeah," you snort, "Sith Lord turned liberator of enslaved miners up and down the universe. Why oh why do I not believe it?"

"And what about you?" He drawls, eyes glittering with amusement. "What have you been keeping yourself busy with?"

"Well," You cup the side of your mouth as though telling him a secret, "you might not have heard, but there's a war going on. Kind of a big deal. The Jedi are Commanders of the Grand Army of the Republic, so I've been playing General."

"Never heard of it," He plays along, feigning boredom. "Any heroic battle stories, General Y/L/N?"

"None that you'd like to hear," you think of how you've been working closer with Obi-Wan and Anakin as of late; helping the 212th and 501st after a good portion of your battalion was wiped out.

That had happened whilst you were stranded with Maul. Coming back to find you had lost the majority of your men was rough. With your throat clogging under the all too familiar weight of grief, you take a sip of tea. It's incredibly spicy, but the burn feels welcome against the threat of tears. It's either cry on him or tell him all about the Jedi who cut his legs off. Neither option is particularly thrilling.

"I fear that is likely mutual," He sighs. 

You nod, knowing that you'd likely be sickened by whatever he's been up to… Stars, you shouldn't be here. What are you doing here? He's a Sith Lord. A criminal. He's committed unspeakable acts and continues to do so. Coming home was supposed to serve as a reminder. To bring you back to reality.

"What did you tell the council?" He murmurs. You turn from the space you had been staring into to him. He looks… too nonchalant for it to pass as genuine.

"They think I'm protecting a Senator," you say stiffly. "What about you? What did you tell your brother?"

"He thinks I've gone to a Sith planet," Maul runs a hand over his face, chuckling darkly. "If he knew where I really was he'd think me as mad as I was on Lotho Minor."

"I…" Your chest tightens as you're suddenly overwhelmed with it all. The guilt you feel over the lack of it. You can feel him watching you as you try to regain some sort of composure. A wave of ease is pushed through your bond, helping you to relax your tensed shoulders. Sadly this doesn't banish the thoughts that caused your tension.

You need to be honest: with Maul, but also yourself.

"You were right," Your voice is strained, and with the look he's giving you now you've _got_ to close your eyes because your heart can't take it. "I was, or _am_ , angry. Because I missed you - and I don't know what that means, but I did. I _do_."

Your eyes flutter open as warm fingers brush against your own. Maul takes the mug from your hand to set on the coffee table.

"I understand. I feel the same..." He pauses to take a breath, expression turning strained. You assume it's because he doesn't have the tools to express the whirlwind of emotion emanating from his side of your bond. "I am afraid I'm no good at this. I have spent so many years using my feelings to fuel my connection to the dark side… But that isn't how I feel with you. You're submerged in the light, and yet I can't find it in myself to find this as weak or pathetic as I once did. If anything, it makes my feelings for you that much stronger. I… I don't want you to lose that. Not because of me."

Your heart is thumping wildly. Soaring with tragic glee.

"I promise you," he takes your hand in his own, raising it so that your palms are pressed together, "After tonight, if you don't want me to, I will not contact you again. I will leave you be, to live the life that is expected of you. Not because that is what I want, but because that may very well be what you need… but, Y/N, if that _is_ what is best for you, then I would also like to remind you that this would be the last time we will be together. If that is the case, then I would like for it to be a night of complete honesty."

His eyes hold that intensity again, and the force is alight with _adoration_ as he interlocks your fingers with his. His tattooed hands clash with your skin, yet you can't think of a more fitting sight. Waves of sadness threaten to overwhelm you. Injustice. Frustration. It's not fair. Damn it, it's not kriffing fair. Why did this have to happen? Why did you have to go and break the code so spectacularly?

 _Why_ does he have to be a Sith?

You don't need to say anything. With tears pooling in your eyes, you shift to your knees, lean over your clasped hands and _finally_ give him the welcome you'd dreamt of so many times since returning to the Temple.

You open yourself up in the force as he pulls you into his lap, humming delectably as his hands grasp your waist. Desire sets the nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach alight; you nip at his lower lip gently, drawing a soft moan from deep in his chest.

"Y/N…"

"Maul," you whisper, cupping his face in your hands as you deepen the kiss. You whine as your tongues brush, and when his grasp on you tightens to become bruising you _swear_ that the force is cheering you on with how it seems to project your desires tenfold.

Of course, your meeting was bound to go like this. Deep down you knew that it would. Why else would you ask Riyo to request your company for the whole night? Why make sure you bathed right before coming over here? 

Your utility belt drops to the floor behind you with a thud, taking your lightsaber along with it. With this gone you feel Maul coax your tabard away from your shoulders… Your overtunic hangs loose, falling open in an almost teasing manner as he draws back from your kiss.

You're dizzy with want, and his eyes are full of hunger as they draw yours in. You've never really seen his composure slip. Not even the night of your first kiss… but as you unlatch the three buckles of his belts you see it being shaken. It emboldens you. Brings a smirk to your lips that you have never felt yourself wear before as his belt falls forgotten behind him. His tabard and outer tunics fall loose.

He doesn't wear and under tunic, so it's easy to push his upper clothing away. His shoulders, chest, and torso are entirely exposed without them - allowing you the pleasure of mapping the tattoo trailing from his cheek, down his neck and disappearing into the blackout tattoo on his neck. You kiss and nip lightly as you go, enjoying how his breathing labours under your attention.

"You're divine," he gasps, "Sent to torture me."

"Back at you," You hum, flashing him yet another smirk as you shrug out of your own outer tunic. His eyes wander as you pull the hem of your undertunic from the waistband of your trousers, but his hands swat yours away before you can discard it.

"Allow me the honours," he drawls in a voice like honey, sending a shiver up your spine that ignites a low chuckle. Maul slowly peels the vest up from the hem, momentarily disappearing from view as he pulls it over your head and up past your raised arms. 

You swear you've never blushed harder as his hands settle just below your chest bindings.

"Are you comfortable?" He murmurs. You think he's joking at first, but your connection through the force holds concern alongside his desire.

"You'd feel if I wasn't," You smile at the absurdity of the question, finding it positively adorable. "I'm nervous, but it doesn't mean I want you to stop. _Stars_ , I'll turn my saber on you if you stop."

He laughs at that, and allows his hands to disappear behind your back as he leans closer. Stopping to press his lips against your ear.

"I would like to see you try, dearest. You'd look heaven sent trying to duel half-clothed."

His velvety voice so close to your ear it sends a shudder through you. A delightful heat pools between your legs.

"I'd still beat you," you breathe, clutching on to his shoulders as his hands tug your bindings loose. They fall and settle at your waist… leaving your chest entirely exposed.

"In your dreams," he whispers, then leans down to place an open-mouthed kiss against the side of your neck. You gasp at the pleasure this particular spot evokes, and of _course_ he is quick to pick up on it. He chases the sensation of his lips and tongue with his teeth, and this is enough to make your hips twitch.

"How long it has taken for us to get here," Maul sighs in appreciative delight.

"I never thought it would feel this torturous," comes your heady reply. He draws back slightly; enough to catch your eyes with his own. He adorns a sinister smile as he allows the fingertips of his right hand to tease the underside of your breast.

"You've imagined it then?" You feel your cheeks flush deeper at the question. The chuckle this draws out of him tells you that he's noticed. "Would you care to share?"

Embarrassed, but also stubborn and unwilling to let him have the upper hand, you share with him a particular dream that had driven you _wild_ with want. Rather than verbally explaining, you elect to project the image through the force. You're in the council chambers. The room is bleached of colour underneath the moonlight, and you're sat in one of the many mismatched chairs positioned in a circle around the communicator. To do this _there_ would surely be an imprisonable offence; but that makes it even more appealing to the darker side of yourself that _wants_ to embrace the forbidden. 

You're naked before a fully-clothed Maul, who's dutifully working his mouth where you need it most. The projection is from your point of view. Showing him what he would look like to you with his eyes closed and your hands clinging to his horns as you thrust yourself against his busy lips and tongue.

He _growls_ at the thought as his lips reclaim yours once more. The hand he had been teasing you with kneads you now, then his calloused fingers are tweaking your nipple and you're rocking your hips as you seek the friction you desperately crave.

"I can smell you," he sounds pained with want as he mutters the words against your lips, "Y/N, I need you. I've needed you for so very long."

"Please," it comes out as a near sob, and with a gasp he's flipped you so that you're sat on the sofa whilst he's sinking to his knees. Another wave of arousal courses through you at the cocky smirk he flashes your way, and then you're raising your hips as he helps rid you of the rest of your clothes.

He takes in the sight of you as though he's a man that's been starved, and you're the first meal he has seen in weeks. You yelp in surprise as he yanks you forwards, positioning you so that you're right on the edge of the sofa. The smirk returns as he slides one of your legs over his bare shoulder, then disappears as he places his lips on your inner thigh.

His kiss starts off chaste, but deepens as time passes. He begins with the occasional flick of his tongue, but this soon graduates to teasing circular motions that have you wanting to grab him and bury his face between your thighs. His hand massages what he can your ass as he continues, and his deep sense of satisfaction radiates through your connection.

 _You're so wet for me, aren't you_?

You whine at the filth his intrusive voice possesses.

"Yes," you know he'll want to hear you say it aloud. "Please, Maul, I need you."

_You have me, sweetling. I'm right here._

"I need more."

_You need only ask._

"Please, _please_ kiss me _there_."

A chaste kiss is placed directly on your clit, followed quickly by soft flicks of his tongue that send scintillating heat coursing through you. He groans as you moan; desperate hands fly to his head and grasp at his scalp, narrowly avoiding the points of his horns.

 _You taste magnificent,_ he praises as his tongue delves inside you. You press your shoulders into the back of the sofa as wave after wave of pleasure hits you. It reminds you of a gentle tide. Building and building until a wave crashes against the shore, and building again until another wave rushes forward. His tongue circles your swollen clit as he shifts you again, so that he can hold your thigh high enough to allow access for his hand. He coats his fingers in the dampness that flows freely now, and then he's dipping a finger inside of you.

" _Fuck_ ," You whimper, one hand falling slack against the couch and then gripping savagely as he slides in deeper.

"Yes, that's it. I want to hear you, sweetling. Tell me, does it feel good to have me touch you?"

"So good. Please don't stop. I need more."

"More?" He chuckles, looking delighted yet ravenous as you open your eyes to drink the sight of him in. He pulls out to tease you with two fingers now… They slide into you with embarrassing ease. "Like this, darling?"

" _Yes,_ " You rock your hips as he finds a pace that has the tide building to crashing waves of storm-like magnitude. "Maul, so good. Oh stars. So fucking good. Don't fucking stop."

"Such a filthy mouth," he half-drawls, half-moans before dipping his head down once more.

That does it. With his fingers brushing against that spot inside you and his tongue flicking against your clit, the wave becomes a damn _tsunami_. A keening sound leaves your throat as stars dance over your vision. You're pushing his head against you as you lose the ability to thrust in time with him. Your legs tense up and quiver as your orgasm tears through you; drowning you in a physical pleasure you've never experienced in your _life_. You feel as though you're floating. Stars, you never want it to end.

"Good girl," he murmurs, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them straight to his mouth. You'd blush were you not already completely flushed from the pleasure of it all. He notices this, and laughs.

"Please, don't be embarrassed. If the Republic storm this apartment now I'd request you as my final meal before they executed me."

"Stop," you giggle, hiding your face in your hands. He releases your thighs and shifts until his weight is pressing into the sofa beside you. Once settled, he coaxes your hands away and pulls you into his chest.

"Kiss me."

You look up, and you're instantly consumed by the fire in his eyes. You do as he says; quickly realising that you can taste yourself. The filth of it stokes the embers of your arousal.

Again? Really?

 _I showed you my fantasy_. _I want to see yours._

He smirks against you.

_Very well._

You're being dragged into a scene that is not of your own design. From the look of the bedroom you assume it's part of the apartment, only it's bathed in candlelight and you're hovering above yourself. Your hands are held above your head in invisible cuffs, and from what you can see the skin of your ass and thighs is covered in red welts that match the shape of Maul's palm. As if to solidify this, his tattooed hand presses against one of the marks. Even the fingertips match up with what is sure to become a bruise.

" _Stars,_ " You breathe, imagining what it would be like to be marked in such a way. To stand before a mirror days later, thinking back to the moments of pure ecstasy as pain and pleasure mixed into a blindingly euphoric concoction. 

"Beautiful, hmm?" 

You allow your gaze to drop to the tented bulge in his trousers, and you're emboldened to straddle his waist. He presses against the inside of your thigh, and the contact draws a purr from his chest.

"Would you like me to restrain you?" He asks, cupping your face in his hand and sliding his thumb over your lips, "to have you at my mercy? To have me make you count as I spank you? To watch your skin flush and bruise for me?"

"Mmhm," you hum, lips parting to slide his thumb into your mouth. You flick it with your tongue as he watches, enthralled at the sight. 

The sudden crack of his palm connecting with your ass makes you gasp. It stings, but the pain of it quickly turns into tingles of teasing pleasure… You want him to do it again. You want him to do it again and again until you're begging for him to be inside you. The realisation has you dripping with desire. Overwhelmed with it all, you let his thumb fall from your mouth so you can grab his face and pull him into another searing kiss.

He spanks you again, and you can feel his curiosity as you rock your hips in response. The movement has you rutting against him in turn… You hear his breath catch in his throat.

He grasps you by your thighs and picks you up as though you weigh nothing, not breaking your kiss for a moment as he walks you to what you assume is the bedroom. You know he's powerful, both in the force and physically, but you hadn't ever dreamed that he would be able to carry you around like this. It only serves to make you want him more.

"So many ways I want you," he breathes, breaking off for air. "Up against the wall. On the kitchen counter. Bathroom sink. Riding me on the command deck of my ship. On your knees for me…"

The images flash through your bond as he speaks, making you unsure if they're purely his fantasies or some of your own. Suddenly the fact he's still somewhat clothed is offensive, so you're relieved when he places you down on the silken sheets of his bed. Shaking hands tug at the waistband of his trousers, and he stands to watch you with darkened eyes as you tear them away.

His red-and-black skin continues down to just above his knees, where it meets with the cybernetics of his gifted legs. This is where Obi-Wan disabled him during their fight on Naboo. Obi-Wan has told you all about how the Dathomirian Sith managed to take down his master. How the dark side had licked at his grief and coaxed him into killing the man that now stands before you… 

You can't hide the slight sense of unease as your eyes land on his strained erection. It's beautiful. He's beautiful, but you have never done _anything_ like this before and you want him to enjoy it as much as you have--

"Your inexperience is not something I care about," He murmurs gently, tilting your head up by your chin to meet his eyes. "I could have a line up of the universe's most experienced women, and I would always choose you."

He pushes you back to lay down, and then he's hovering above you and pressing his forehead against yours.

"I will always want you, Y/N." He places a quick kiss on your lips before dropping another on your cheek. "My beautiful human," a kiss to your other cheek, "My coveted Jedi Knight," a kiss to your forehead, "My bonded."

"My bonded," you echo, chest tight with the warm depth of his feelings for you.

You're being pushed to the brink of admitting more to him and yourself than you care to, so you use this as an opportunity to flip him onto his back and straddle his waist. The light in his gaze darkens at the sight of you above him.

He spanks you again, so hard that it brings tears to your eyes.

"Have you got it in your head that you're in control?"

"Wh-- no," the anger in his expression is dampened by the desire in his eyes. This is part of the game, and you'll be damned if it isn't turning you on more than you ever thought possible.

"No, _Master_. Address me properly."

You bite your lower lip as he watches you expectantly. A slight nudge in your bond tells you that he will be ok with it if you refuse to call him that. Stars, if the Council knew about _any_ of this - least of all that you started calling a Sith Lord _that_.

"Of course not, Master." A beat passes. You can feel that agreeing to it has caused his need for you to burn even brighter, and it's this that pushes you to add: "I am at your mercy, my Lord. To deal with as you see fit."

You're flipped back onto your back and being pushed into the mattress quicker than you can keep up with, feeling giddy with excitement and longing as he tugs your wrists up above your head and pins them with the force. His fingers wrap around your throat. He doesn't squeeze, but examines your feelings in the force until he is content in knowing that _yes_ you are absolutely okay with this. He watches as he coats himself in your arousal. You gasp as his head meets your clit. Then he's lining himself up at your entrance.

"I expect this may hurt. Please tell me if it does."

"Yes, Master."

He curses softly, then leans forward so that his face is close enough for your heavy breaths to mingle. His hands settle not too far from either side of your head as he kisses you, his movements softer now as one hand eventually slides down your body until he is clutching your waist. Then, he slowly brings his hips forwards a couple of times until he finally breaches your entrance.

You gasp at the feel of it. The slight burn. The _fullness._ At first it causes you to shift uncomfortably. He hushes you gently and pauses until this subsides.

"You're being so good, sweetling. Tell me when you're ready."

The levels of care he displays is something you're _so_ unfamiliar with. It threatens to bring tears to your eyes - but now is not the time for that. You tell him through the force that you're ready for him to carry on… gasping as the pain also begins to fight with pleasure. Eventually the pleasure wins out, and although the burn is still there you can't find it in yourself to care as each careful rock of his hips ignites flames of pleasure.

"Oh my," you gasp, wishing you could cling to his shoulders to steady yourself. To meet his thrusts with your own. "Master, please, so good."

"You're so _tight_ ," he groans, and when you open your eyes you see how strained he is. How much he is holding back to make sure you're not in too much pain. "I need you."

"Then _take_ me."

He opens his eyes, looking half-mad as he seeks any hint of pain in your gaze. Not trusting that he won't hurt you.

His eyes are blue.

You open your mouth as though to tell him, but then he's rocking his hips _properly_. You're so full. He's stroking against your walls, igniting hot waves of pleasure that have you crying out as your eyes roll back and head lolls against the pillows behind you.

It sounds like he's cursing, but it's not in a language you recognise. You fight against the restraints he's got around your hands, pulling on them as you seek enough stability to thrust with him. The pleasure is unlike anything you've ever known and yet you need _more_ , but the force at your wrists is stopping you from seeking it.

"My Lord, let me go. I need to touch you."

"No," he growls, hand disappearing from your throat. "Who are you to make demands of me? Good girls take what they are given and they are _grateful_."

You realise why he released his hold on you as another slap lands on your ass. With him inside you, the pleasure of it this time has you crying out.

" _P_ _lease_ again Master!"

He does as you ask, and you can feel his delight as pleasure surges through you with each smack. Your arms fall lax as he hits you again. You're in heaven, even if the only place for you after this is sure to be hell. The pleasure you're both experiencing burns so brightly inside you and around you that you're convinced it's going to entirely consume you both in equal measure. 

You understand now why Jedi prohibit sex with emotional attachments, for this is something you will _never_ be able to live without.

"You feel so fucking _good_ ," You mewl, "Don't fucking stop. I want to feel you finish inside me. I want to feel it, Master. Please. Please give it to me. I'll be good. I'll do whatever you ask."

He pulls out of you so suddenly, and the emptiness he leaves has you feeling outraged. 

"On your knees, _Jedi_."

He says it with such disgust that it might have the same meaning as the word _whore_ , and yet hearing him speak of your religion like that in the midst of mind-blowing sex has you groaning with need. You do as he commands, and you're rewarded with him sliding back into you with a powerful thrust that forces you to push against the headboard with your restrained hands just to keep steady.

This new position allows him to go deeper, and you quickly realise that neither of you are going to last long. The scalding, satisfying heat is causing a storm to rise within you. You don't care who you are or who he is, or that there's a war going on and that the entire galaxy is in jeopardy because of it. You don't care about anything in this moment: nothing but the two of you and making sure that you fall over the edge.

"I want to feel you orgasm around me, you filthy little thing."

"Yes, Master. _Please_."

He leans forward so that he can slide a hand between your legs, and then he's circling your clit and using the force to wrap invisible fingers around your throat.

You had once been force choked by Asajj Ventress; never in your wildest dreams did you expect to be able to _enjoy it_.

It's all too much. With a strangled moan your second orgasm tears through you with much more power than the first. Maul cries out as your walls contract around him.

"Cum for me, Master."

Hearing such a filthy demand from you does it for him. Most likely because no one would ever expect such words to fall from _your_ lips. He buries himself to the hilt as his orgasm takes him by surprise. Gasping, he holds you in place as the afterwave floods you both with unparalleled glee. 

His tension gives way. Eventually he releases his physical and force hold on you, pulling out to collapse onto his back with a heady sigh. You roll onto your side and look at him; heart flooding with affection as you see a peaceful expression on his face for the first time in your life.

"Perfection," he whispers, cupping your face with one hand and stroking his thumb against your cheek, "You had nothing to worry about, sweetling. That was by far the best sex I have ever had."

You convey your agreement through the bond, not trusting your voice enough to speak. You're still trembling as he pulls you in for a lazy kiss, and you feel all resolve dissipating as you settle into his embrace. This can't be the last time. The only time. You need more. You need _him_.

When he eventually beckons you to join him for a shower his eyes are gold again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where all this plot-with-filth is coming from but here's another chapter.

You did want to see Maul again. You had meant every word as you decided you wanted this to carry on. You felt how thrilled he was through your bond and, although logically wrong, you just _knew_ it was the right decision. Then, he had to go away for a while. Then, he laid siege to Mandalore.

Then, he killed Duchess Satine.

Obi-Wan is an excellent Jedi. He has been through so much by all accounts, but he never gives in to the dark side. Your friendship has truly blossomed since you have started working closely with him, and you have found yourself admiring him beyond words. He’s so strong. Compassionate, yet never overly so. Kind, patient, loyal. 

So, when Anakin told you what happened, you felt stricken on Obi-Wan’s behalf. Anakin had joked in the past about Satine being his “girlfriend” - so from this you assumed that they had once been rather close. When Obi-Wan does return he is as graceful as ever, but you can see that there’s a certain dullness in his eyes that doesn’t seem to fade.

You haven’t engaged with Maul since.

You hope the disgust you hold for him floods your bond. You hope that’s why he hasn’t bothered to come back to Coruscant. You wonder if he had planned this all along, or if it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. You don’t know which option would be _worse_ \- but what you do know is that this evokes a new resolve within you to stay well away from the Sith Lord.

You’re training with Anakin and Ahsoka when you feel him; for the first time in weeks. In the middle of a duel with training sabers, you gasp as a heavy wave of fear pushes through your barriers. There’s anger, too. So much so that you want to scream with it. Knowing the feelings are not your own you drop the saber, not trusting yourself to continue as you stumble away from the training grounds. You need to be alone. Stars, you need to be _alone_.

“Y/N?” Anakin’s voice is filled with concern, but it sounds so far away. You think Ahsoka is trying to call out to you too… but your mind focuses on an unfamiliar throne room. Red blades slashing and crashing together. A wicked laugh. It doesn’t make any sense to you, but the vision is _dripping_ with darkness. You hold your head in your hands as it continues.

Then, as quickly as it came on, it stops.

“Knight Y/L/N?” Obi-Wan is standing before you. In your haze, it seems you’ve stumbled to where he is teaching younglings for the day. The children eye you warily as Anakin almost barrels into the back of you.

“Want me to take over from here, Master?” He’s attempting to hide his breathlessness, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as though the younglings won’t notice the predicament you’re in. Obi-Wan shakes himself from his stupor to nod.

“Please. Come with me.”

You let him guide you from the classroom, but he doesn’t take you far. He pulls you into the first empty room he notices and helps you sit on one of the desks - closing the door behind himself before anyone else can see.

“Y/N, what happened?”

“A vision,” you gasp, feeling so out-of-touch with reality that you could cry. “It was so _real_. I think… I think I saw a Sith battle. But there were three? How is that _possible_?”

“It could be a vision from the past,” Obi-Wan immediately defaults to comforting you as he settles his hand on your back, but you can sense his unease. “It will be alright. Try not to think of it now. Would you like to meditate? It will help clear your mind.”

“Am I… Is this the dark side?”

You shudder at the panic that’s still tightening your chest, staring up at your friend with horror. You’ve never experienced anything like this before. _Everyone_ has moments of darkness, but not to this degree. 

_Maul?_

You push his name through your bond, wishing he could explain what had just transpired between you. Neither of you has ever projected so heavily… was it a projection? With _three_ Sith? You suppose Dooku could have found him. But Dooku’s fighting style is completely different to the one you witnessed the stranger using. _Maul, what’s happening?_

You tune in to the bond in a way you have never allowed yourself to. It’s difficult considering how riled up you are, but you are able to quieten your mind enough to hone in on his surroundings.

That’s when a searing wave of grief hits you like a railspeeder.

_Two blades buried in the chest of a man whose skin is yellow-and-black with tattoos._

You now know that this is him projecting. You also know who this stranger is, and the word leaves your lips as it surely leaves Maul’s.

“ _Brother_.”

“I should take you to the Council,” Obi-Wan says from somewhere above you. You’re on the classroom floor, hugging your knees to your chest as tears stream down your face in a way that you’ve _never_ allowed to happen before. It’s so painful. Oh _force_ , it’s agony. You don’t see anything else, but you can feel the hurt and grief as Savage surely dies from his wounds. 

Then, the _anger_.

Of course. He is a darksider, after all. It’s only natural that he would use these feelings as fuel. A fiery source of forbidden power.

“No!” You growl hotly, smacking your fist down on the table. You’re snarling at Obi-Wan as he freezes. 

“Y/N… You’re letting it overpower you. You have to fight it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head wildly. 

“I can’t. It’s so strong.”

“You can,” He kneels before you, taking your face in his hands and gently prodding for permission to access your mind. He wants to ease you through it. To help you.

“You _can’t_!” Blinding panic causes you to scramble back out of his grip. “No, not you. You can’t see. You can’t.”

“If not me then who?” He looks affronted. _Offended_ “You don’t want to accept the Council’s help. _My_ help… Do you have something to hide?”

You have to get a hold of yourself. You have to do it _now_ , otherwise you’re going to find yourself in far more trouble than you bargained for. Maul’s rage is still cooking up a vicious storm, but you will yourself to… let it go. Closing your eyes, you force yourself to steady your breaths and focus on the light. The warmth of it. You recite the code in your mind, over and over until you manage to disconnect yourself. Find where your connection with him starts and ends. 

You don’t know how long you just… sit there, but Obi-Wan is sitting in front of you when you finally come out of the trance you put yourself in. 

The offence is gone. The only expression he wears is one of relief.

“You had me concerned for a moment, there.”

“Sorry,” You sigh, running your hand over your face. “By the force, that was horrible. Thank you for… for being here.”

“I would have done more to help if you had let me,” He points out. It’s not exactly a dig, but it’s not entirely innocent either. “But, Y/N, you will have to speak with the Council about this. I have never seen you so… consumed like that. You just about terrified those poor younglings.”

“I will,” You lie with a smile that comes far too easily. “Don’t worry, Obi-Wan. I’ll go and see them later… but for now I think I’d like to rest.”

“Of course,” He stands, and holds a hand out for you. “I will help you to your quarters.”

\---

That night, you feel his force signature jump out of hyperspace. 

You are almost asleep when it happens, but the sudden proximity has you jolting up from your mattress. He’s here. He’s on Coruscant. He’s not projecting anymore - you’re not sure he even meant to do it - but you can still feel his grief coating your bond like tar.

_Y/N, please._

Even the voice in your head feels thick with it. You’re stuck. Caught between your disgust with him… yet finding the aching loneliness he now projects to be unbearable.

_You killed Duchess Satine. In cold blood. To upset Obi-Wan._

He draws back from you as though recoiling. Within seconds his feelings have been withdrawn… but you still remember them. Laying there in your Temple quarters, you are faced with the fact that he will now be turning in to his extravagant sheets of silk wishing for comfort. Pained, knowing that he won’t get it from you.

You. The only other person he has left in the galaxy.

 _He should have considered that before killing her_ , you tell yourself. Willing your mind to quiet itself and body to sleep.

\-- 

You busy yourself with studying. Old holocrons, ancient texts… Master Kloon proves to be a worthwhile companion as you pour over a set of old records on the original lightsabers for a while. You focus on being a Jedi. A good, enthusiastic Jedi - who cares about preserving the Order. Learning all about it. 

But your thoughts keep wandering back to Maul.

He’s still on Coruscant. You wonder if he’s got up, yet? If he’s replaying it over-and-over in his mind’s eye. If he’s angry at himself. If he’s plotting his useless revenge. _Karma, come back to get him after causing this pain for Obi-Wan._ You admonish yourself for thinking that. That’s _certainly_ not the Jedi way. Besides, Jedi don’t believe in karma. 

An hour later, you finally allow yourself to tap into your bond. You are just checking up on him. Because you’re too kind for your own good, you tell yourself. You just need to know how angry he is. To make sure that he’s not about to go on a murderous rampage throughout the capital. 

He feels… empty.

Of all the responses you’ve experienced from him so far, this was not one you’d thought he’d go through. You’d seen it in Obi-Wan’s eyes and felt horrified for him. Taking it in turns with Anakin to check on him - get him out for a bit. Take his mind off things. As weeks went by the light returned, and you know that it was down to being surrounded by friends who genuinely care about his well being.

It’s this knowledge that has you heading back to that ridiculous penthouse. The door glides open for you as it had last time, but Maul isn’t standing on the other side. He must have coded it to recognise you…

He’s laid on the bed when you enter. Still dressed in dirt-covered robes, gazing up at the ceiling without really seeing it.

You don’t know what to do. You’re still disgraced by what he did, so it’s proving to be an internal battle between wanting to push him away yet letting it be known that you… Care. _Stars_ , you care. He’s committed acts that are so utterly repulsive yet here you are. In his bedroom. Standing torn in his doorway. _Caring_.

You force yourself to make tea because you can’t think of anything else to do, and you’re pretty sure he won’t have drank anything since he arrived. He’s still in that same position when you return. You set the mugs down on the side table to cool, then climb onto the bed beside him.

He blinks, turning his head as though he hadn’t noticed your presence until your added weight dipped into the mattress.

“You need a shower,” you murmur, unbuckling his belt. Too wrapped up in your inner turmoil to think back to how different the circumstances had been the last time you did this.

He doesn’t argue. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing, but you try not to dwell on it as you undress yourself and tug him into the refresher. Part of him must be too prideful to really give in to his depressive state, because he doesn’t just stand there and let you wash him as you’d thought you’d have to. He doesn’t stay long, which you assume is down to the fact that the water is cold for him with his higher body temperature. He leaves as you’re halfway through washing your hair.

When you return to the bedroom he’s finished his tea, which is something at least.

“Why did you come?” He finally asks, voice so small you almost think he didn’t say it at all. But he’s watching you when you look at him. Eyes full of curiosity as they shine gold under the artificial lights.

“I couldn’t just… Leave you. Not like this.”

Sadness. It seeps through the emptiness he’s feeling. You reinforce your mind’s barriers to protect yourself from it, then lace your fingers with his as he reaches out for your hand. He’s grateful. You’re not sure if he is aware that he doesn’t exactly _deserve_ your kindness, but he’s grateful regardless.

“Thank you.”

\---

You wake up feeling _hot._ Sweating. Did you fall asleep inside a damned _furnace_ or something…? No. Not a furnace. _Maul_. You moan tiredly, turning in his embrace to push him away by the chest. He’s wrapped himself around you in his sleep. You imagine it was a subconscious attempt to ease his loneliness, but you can’t bear the heat.

He grunts in protest to you shoving him back, pulling you closer.

“Too warm,” you grumble, trying to wriggle your way out of his grasp. You can just about make out his face in the darkness as he opens his eyes.

“Humans,” he sighs insultingly, then releases you from his hold. 

“It’s not my fault,” you huff. “Try turning your damn temperature down.”

“Your race is weak by all accounts,” he huffs right back. “You’re too easily hurt in a physical sense. Your senses are horribly dampened, too. Yet you practically run the galaxy.”

There’s an edge to his voice that has you tilting your head, watching as his fist clenches from where it sits on top of the sheets. He’s still on his side - facing you as he continues his rant.

“No. You don’t ‘practically’ run it. You _do_ run it. How was it that we all fell to our knees for the likes of you? You, a race so slow. Physically inferior… so how did he… do it? How did he _kill him_?”

His grief rages anew in the force. You’ve got your shields up, but it’s still disconcerting. You’d be mad at his rant if you didn’t have the foresight to know he isn’t speaking about you personally… but presumably the Sith he had been fighting. His emotions are so strong. Always so overpoweringly alive. His ability to drown in the emotions stands in such stark contrast to how you have lived under the Jedi ideals that it threatens to suffocate you. But you don’t let it. You _won’t_ let it, and you won’t let it get him either.

“Can I help?”

He’s in so much pain. You imagine you would be too… you can’t imagine being left with no one. What would you be like if you didn’t have the Jedi? If the only people you had to help and guide and comfort you were taken away? You suspect you’d feel as Maul does now, whether it’s forbidden for Jedi to wallow in it or not.

“Yes,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing you.

With some time out of his arms and from under of the sheets, you’ve cooled down enough that it’s not an issue… though you don’t think overheating would stop you from doing this anyway. The kiss is completely dominant. His hand tangles in the hair at the nape of your neck and draws you closer, causing you to plant your hands on either side of his shoulders as he lies on his back and coaxes you into straddling his hips. It’s like he’s shovelling the burning coals of his grief onto a pyre of desire - fuelling it as he grasps your ass with his free hand and grinds up against you. A groan escapes him and, to hell with it all, you let your shields down so you can spiral down into the abyss alongside him. 

“I want to taste you,” you hiss, then nip at his lower lip. 

“Yes,” he sighs, then pushes himself up from the bed so that he’s sitting with you in his lap. “Get on your knees.”

He sets a pillow on the carpet, so you dutifully climb off him and settle yourself so he can slide his legs off the side of the bed. You’re positioned between them, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his thighs. 

“Tell me, can you see me?”

“Barely,” you admit. It’s ridiculously dark, and from this high up there’s not much light pollution to help illuminate the room. 

“I can see you,” He says, and you both feel and hear the rustle of fabric as he slides out of his pants. “I can see everything. How pretty you look on your knees waiting for my instructions…” The hot weight of his erection presses against your lips, so you open up and let him slide the head in. Enjoying how the silken skin feels on your tongue. “ _Yes_ , sweetling. Get it wet for me. I want your gorgeous little mouth to take me easily as I fuck it.”

His words are absolutely scandalous, succeeding in completely embarrassing you yet sending wet heat flooding between your legs. You let a pool of saliva dribble past your lips and onto him, then use your hand to spread it until there’s enough to aid your movements with ease. You take him back in your mouth. Cheeks flushed and clit aching as he slides so deep it sparks your gag reflex.

_Too much?_

The concern in his question is genuine… You consider it for a moment. It’s not entirely pleasant, you must admit… but there’s an appeal to it that should astound you. The way you have to swallow to stop yourself from choking on him. How he curses in response as the tight heat of your mouth and throat clamp around him. As near-uncomfortable as it is, it turns you on so kriffing much that you feel high from it.

 _No_.

Your name tumbles from his lips like a prayer, and then his hand is in your hair as he sets the pace he wants from you. You brace one hand on his thigh as the other settles at his base, and you use this to help stimulate the length of him that just won’t _fit_ in your mouth.

“You should see yourself,” His dark chuckle is somewhat broken by the gasps your mouth draws from him. Then he’s dropping the image into your head… and he wasn’t kidding. His zabrak senses really can make out the entire room despite the darkness. You see yourself on your knees, his hand clutching your hair as you sink up and down the length of him deliciously. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that trails down from the corners of your lips and past your chin as you gag once again. 

It’s disgustingly filthy.

You _love_ it.

_Fuck, Master. I wish I could see you too. You taste so good. I love having you in my mouth. I want you to cum for me. I want you to cum down my throat. I want to taste it._

“Ngh-- Naughty little Jedi, aren’t you?”

 _Only for you, my Lord. Only for your cock._

Your use of that word douses him with more heat. You feel it in the force, but also in the way he twitches in your mouth.

“Then fuck your Jedi code and worship _me_ instead.”

And so you do. You slide him so far into the back of your throat that he can’t help but thrust his hips to chase the sensation - and you let him. When it becomes too much you move down to mouth at his balls as your hand works at him instead. You notice how his pleasure heightens when you focus on the head, and so you swipe your thumb over it in what you hope is an unpredictable pattern to catch him off guard. His thigh tightens impossibly as your mouth closes around him again, and his pain is lost to the ecstasy you’re drawing from him. It’s tortuous and intense and _perfect_.

You’re heady with the effect you're having on him. Your own desire is completely pushed aside as you focus on what he needs. What will make him cry out? What will make him curse, or thrust against you, or tighten his hold in your hair and force you to take him deeper? Never in your life would you have thought you’d enjoy this so much. Being used in such a lewd manner. Akin the scantily clad girls you often see dancing in the universe’s seedier establishments. 

“You are _loving_ this, aren’t you?”

_Fuck, yes._

“Loving having my cock down your throat. So f-fucking _pretty_. I-- Hells, getting close. Keep going. Good girl. So good for me...”

He’s cursing in the same language he used last time, only you _do_ recognise it. Something about the clicks and hissing makes it hit home. Causes your eyes to widen.

It’s the language of the Sith.

His orgasm bursts so fiercely in the force that you squeeze your own legs shut as the echo of it makes you tremble. He cums in your mouth, thrusting his hips as a lengthy moan claws its way out of his throat. You keep swallowing. There’s so much that you think you might choke on it, so you just keep swallowing and swallowing until he slumps. His bliss buzzes in the air as you let him slide out of your mouth and push yourself up to draw him in for a kiss.

 _I can taste myself on you_ , he moans into your lips. It makes you wish you’d saved some of it, but you’ll keep it in mind for next time. 

“You’re so… Fuck, Maul. You _ruin_ me,” You kiss him deeper, settling to straddle him again and humming as his arms wrap around you. “You drive me crazy. I’m _crazy_ for you.”

You’re babbling, but he doesn’t seem to care. In fact, you feel the warmth blooming in his chest through your bond.

“It is entirely mutual, sweetling. That I can promise you.”

Then his hot fingers are pressing inside you; so quick and deep that you cry out. From this angle he can’t stimulate your clit, but you’re so turned on after experiencing his orgasm second-hand that you don’t need it. Your back arches as he strokes the spot inside you that causes the white-hot flames to burst into a wildfire.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes. _Fuh-uck._ Sofuckingood. Can you s-speak th-the _language_?”

Judging from the savage glee this ignites you decide it _has_ to be the language of the Sith. He does it. Letting the delectable clicks of Cs and Ks, the drawn out _Ssss_ sounds and strong emphasis on the letter U push you closer to the brink. You don’t know what it is that makes it so intensely _hot_ to you… at this stage you don’t want to ask. You don’t care. You just want to hear his baritone voice twist the words into something so deliciously sexy that you’ll be turned to mush.

As he speaks the words, he translates them in your mind.

_Who ever would have thought that I would have a Jedi Knight asking me to speak in the forbidden old tongue? What would they think of you - rutting against my hand as I give you the pleasure they have denied you for so very long?_

“I’mgonna-- g-gonna c-c-cum.”

_Yes you are, little one. You’re going to be loud for me when you do it, too. I want to hear your praise as I make you cum. As you use the sound of my Sith tongue to fuel your pleasure._

“ _Maul_!” His name falls out as a squeak as the air is momentarily knocked from your lungs. The torturous build-up finally reaches a thunderous crescendo; your legs clamp as you tighten down on his fingers. Then, when you are able to suck in a breath, a drawn-out moan escapes you as the words fly from your lips. “Master, my Lord, Maul, mine, _fuuuuck_.”

“That’s right,” His other hand settles against your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but it’s enough to have you clenching around him again as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. “You are a sight to behold when you cum - do you know that?”

 _Too much_ , you squirm - so he pulls his fingers out of you… and draws them to his lips.

It is dark, but your faces are close enough that you can make out the way his eyes roll back as your wetness coats his tongue. Just when you think things couldn’t get any dirtier, he always manages to press yet another button that has you blushing so hard you suspect you’ll be stuck red-faced for the rest of your days. 

“If I didn’t believe in the force, I’d be wholly convinced of my place in hell.”

The laugh that tears from his chest is so at odds with the emptiness he displayed when you first got here, it makes your heart sing.

“At least we would be able to continue our debauchery for all eternity,” he sighs, leaning down to kiss your neck, “it doesn’t sound terribly bad to me.”

“Hmm, something tells me the Council wouldn’t agree.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” His voice rumbles softly as his teeth catch your earlobe, drawing another shudder from you. “They would be sat on their heavenly thrones, would they not? Why worry over their opinions when they’re destined for a different world?”

“Because heaven and hell _aren’t_ real,” you sigh. “There is only the force.”

“Only the force,” he echoes. “Well, then we best enjoy the ability to commit false sins whilst we have it.”

“Shut up,” you giggle, stroking your hand up his arm until you can cup his cheek in your hand. You catch his forehead with a quick, soft kiss before slinking away to the refresher.

He’s still naked when you return, though he’s not empty-handed. The room is illuminated a brilliant shade of blue as the familiar hum of your lightsaber sings to the both of you. It reflects in his eyes as he admires the design - reminding you of that moment when you last had sex. When his eyes had _literally_ gone blue.

“I cannot fault the design,” he praises, “though I do prefer a dual-bladed lightsaber myself.”

“They’re _very_ hard to master,” you note, which draws a self-assured grin from him.

“Oh, I know. I’m yet to meet another force user who wields one.”

You spot his saber on the bedside, so you pick it up… immediately noting how wrong it feels. The kyber crystal is damaged. You think back to Master Yoda telling you about Sith sabers during your journey to Ilum as a youngling. He had explained how Sith bend crystals to their will. How the blade burns bright red with the blood of its crystal when the saber is ignited. Maul’s saber is no different. 

He powers down your saber as you hold his, and it bathes you both in red. His golden eyes could be on fire as he stares at you - not even bothering to hide his awe.

“My dear, you would make a _beautiful_ Sith.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one proved a little more challenging to write, but it's finally here! Enjoy :)

You _won_.

Oh, you won. You fought valiantly. Every fibre of your being protested, but you and your men persisted. Just when you thought it was over. Just when you thought you were going to die at the hands of the separatists - you successfully took out the tactical droid.

The battle lasted two days, yet the journey back saw you bouncing with adrenaline. You should be tired… but you are shaking with energy throughout the entirety of the council meeting you've been called into. In the end they dismiss you for a standard week. Order you to get some rest. Meditate. Find peace. But you _can't_.

You feel as though you're on fire.

And through arriving back on Coruscant and attending the council meeting, you can feel Maul's signature. He's here. So close. Up in his penthouse. It's been a month since you last spent any time together, and now you've got a whole kriffing _week_.

You feel his amusement buzzing through the bond, and when you stride through the doors of his penthouse he's grinning… until he gets a proper look at you.

You're wearing the same robes you'd worn in battle. You'd caught a look at yourself in a mirror before the council meeting. Your hair is a mess. Your robes are torn and covered in dust and sand, and damaged from the near-hits of blaster fire. You're aware of your horrifying state, but you can't find it within yourself to care.

"Y/N--"

He actually gasps as you yank him by the collar and shove him against the wall. You're on him in a heartbeat, growling into his mouth as you slide your hands into his tunic. The soft, hot skin underneath your shaking palms has you groaning into his mouth. You keep him pinned with the force.

_I'm going to fuck you so fucking hard that you won't remember your own name by the end of it._

He fights the hold the force has on him. _Let me touch you._ Hard muscles flex and strain underneath your fingers, but you refuse to budge. You can feel his desire crackling in the force… He likes it. He likes being out of control. He likes seeing you like this. He is somewhat baffled by just how much he actually _likes it_. There's something else there too, simmering under the surface, but you're too wound up to study it right now. He wants you and that is enough.

"Has anyone ever told you how kriffing _gorgeous_ you are?" You unfasten his belt until all three buckles are unlatched, then toss it aside. The tunic is easy enough to slide away, leaving his chest entirely exposed. He's already half-hard - tenting in his trousers.

"Y/N, you need to--" You grab him by the jaw, and his eyes actually widen. Then you lean in, letting your breath fan against the side of his face as your lips barely brush his ear.

"If you keep trying to order me around I'll find you a muzzle."

Red-hot arousal bursts through his side of the bond.

He shuts up.

" _Good_ ," you drawl, rewarding him by nibbling at his earlobe and cupping him through his pants. His body tenses as he moans… Stars, you feel it yourself. How long overdue your touch is. How pleasure licks its way up his spine as you slowly rub him through the thick cloth. "I won, Maul. I won and I want my reward. So, you're going to get on your knees and worship me the way I deserve. Then, when you've made me cum enough, I'm going to reward _you_ by letting you fuck me long and hard up against this wall. Understood?"

"Of course, General."

Oh. _Oh._

You understand why he likes being called Master so much now.

"Excellent," with one last kiss to his cheek you release your hold. You almost use the force to put him on his knees… but you restrain yourself. Taking a step back, you quickly discard your tunics. He watches you carefully, and you assume that he's considering this turn of events. He's so used to being in control. Of assuming power. It's dizzying to have the roles reversed. It isn't until you've dropped your chest binding to the ground that he finally relents. Then, Maul falls to his knees. 

Maul _submits_. To _you._

You step out of your trousers and underwear as soon as he's pulled them down to your ankles, and then he's grasping your ass in both hands and pulling you forward. Some small part of you remembers how disgusting you must be. You haven’t had a minute to yourself to get cleaned up since getting back on-world, but Maul doesn't care. As he sucks at your clit, drawing a high-pitched whine out of you, you're struck by how little he cares. 

_I missed you,_ he tells you as each flick of his tongue adds fuel to the fire he's stoked inside you. _I have been waiting for days, hoping your mission would end soon. Wanting you here so that I could taste you again_.

"Mmm," he coaxes out spasms of luxurious heat. You allow yourself to bask in it; swimming in the pleasure he evokes as your legs begin to shake. "Oh _fuck_ , who'd have thought-- got a Sith on their knees for me. Look _perfect_."

In return for what he had done to you last time, you project what you can see as you rut against his mouth. You're stood up, gazing down with eyes half-closed at his head buried between your thighs. He groans at the sight, causing his tongue to vibrate against you in such a way that you spasm as you clamp down around nothing.

"Stars-- _sogood_ , you're-- doing perfectlyohfucki'mgonnacum!"

You won. You're alive. You could have died - but you didn't. You're alive and others aren't and others _died_ so you need to live you need to survive you need to feel alive and Maul's curling his fingers inside you and the force _sings_ with the vibrance of your life force _ohstarsdon'tstopMaulplease_ \-- 

You fall limp as he sends you rocketing over the edge. Your vision blurs as your legs give out from under you. It's a good thing that he's so strong, otherwise you'd have tumbled forwards and _probably_ injured him in some way. Instead he navigates you so that you can lay down on the ground, then shifts until he can slot his shoulders underneath your thighs and push your legs open wider.

He lazily laps at you as you slowly come down from the high… Suddenly every muscle in your body feels immensely heavy. The adrenaline is seeping out of you as you let your eyes drift closed. It's been so long since you just relaxed...

Maul must feel it, as he stops gliding his tongue through your folds-- and then he's gone. You groan in protest, but he is having none of it as he pulls himself up to press his forehead to yours.

"My dear, how long has it been since you slept?"

_Dunno. Um… days? Three?_

" _Three_ \--!? Curse them," The promise of sex lays forgotten as he stands. Seconds later, you're being scooped up and cradled against his chest, "Are they really so desperate for Jedi commanders that they would leave you out there for so long? Was there truly _no one_ to take over?"

"Y'go tell 'em," You giggle drunkenly, then project an image of an angry Maul storming into the council chamber to give them a piece of his mind. You think that your former Master would be particularly mortified.

"I see you're hanging up the robes to become a comedian," He grumbles as though he finds the situation anything but funny. 

"Nex'time I'll tell 'em. Say…" You pause to yawn, "Say to 'em my Sith boyfriend doesn't like n-no sleep me."

"Not you. I only… I just… Stars, what will become of me after this-- after you?"

He doesn't have the words, but you can feel it through the bond. Feel how he wants to keep you wrapped firmly in his arms until your exhaustion subsides. Soothe your aches and nurse your wounds through the force until they're nothing but a memory. He may not have the words, but you know what it all means. You know what the warm-yet-niggling sensation translates to.

He cares about you. He cares about you a _lot_.

\--

Despite your exhaustion, you find yourself dreaming.

You dream of battle. You dream that the separatist army is attacking the Temple and you’re giving the order for your battalion to engage the enemy. The 157th are with you. All of them. Boone, Red, Slicer, Twee, Zeke, Sevens… All dutifully serving the Republic. Obeying your commands, as faithful as always as they raise their blasters.

The dream shifts. Fast-forwarding. Leaving you no time to stop the inevitable. The same, cruel laughter you’d heard in Maul’s vision fills the damaged Temple halls… Offering a sickly backdrop to the clone bodies laid scattered on the floor.

_Y/N._

“Boone?” You cry, blinding panic drowning out everything else as you look for his signature helmet. The six tally marks. The blaster burn he never managed to polish out of the right side of its temple. You look for extra-scuffed armour amongst the sea of white-and-bronze, both wanting to find him yet hoping that by not doing so it means he’s still alive. He can’t be dead. He can’t be. Boone survived. Your Captain had _survived--_

You freeze. Your heart stops as your lungs give out.

You’ve found him.

Half his helmet has been destroyed by some sort of blast, leaving half his face visible. His usually vibrant brown eyes stare ahead dazedly… No. _No no no._ You fall to your knees, screaming as your quaking hands shake his shoulders.

“Wake up! Wake up, you idiot!”

_Wake up. Please._

You realise that this voice doesn’t belong here, and it’s enough to jolt you out of the nightmare. Your heart is racing as your eyes flash open. A nightmare. It wasn’t real. It was just a nightmare…

Except it wasn’t, was it? Relief floods through you as you remember that Boone is still very much alive-- but Slicer. Twee. Zeke… so many of them are gone. Lost to battles that you never had the chance to influence. _What if I hadn’t ended up MIA? What if the 157th hadn’t been borrowed by other Jedi?_

_What if they’d lived if they had been with me?_

“A dream,” Maul supplies, as though that is all you need to calm your racing heart... Whenever you’d found yourself upset on Maluterra, he had respectfully looked the other way. Provided distractions. He never asked you to put your heartache into words. He thought he was doing you a favour by letting you hide… But so much is different now. Everything’s _changing_ , and as much as you had appreciated it in the past - you’re not sure that’s going to cut it anymore.

“A dream that was based on reality,” your voice shakes as you hug your knees to your chest. “While we were missing, I lost three quarters of the 157th to the war. They followed some great Jedi into battle, but none of them knew how to command _my_ men. Captain Boone - he tried to offer guidance, but the Jedi always…” _knew better_ , you want to say. _They always thought they knew better._ But you can’t say that. Not to a Sith.

He’s sat up alongside you when you’re done; drawing you into his chest and stroking your hair from where it’s stuck to your face. You’re crying. You hadn’t even _noticed._

“Have you spoken to this Captain Boone? About how this has… impacted your peace of mind?” 

The question surprises you. _Peace of mind_ is hardly something that a Sith is familiar with. Their order is so dedicated to fuelling their power using anger and hate... The very first line of their code disregards the notion _of_ peace.

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion… Did I get it right?"

His hand is around your throat so fast that you almost fight it. He uses the force to pick you up - settling you on his lap so you've no choice but to face him… your eyes meet. Although you see desire burning there, there's something else. Something softer. The same thing you had seen when you had him pinned to the wall.

"If you want me to fuck you, by all means _keep going_ … But I hardly think that, in this moment, that is what you need. Remember, _Jedi_ : through passion, I gain strength," he places a quick kiss against your lips, and when you try to deepen it he draws back and places another on your jaw. "Through strength, I gain power." A kiss to your neck. "Through power, I gain victory." A kiss to the shell of your ear. "Through victory, my chains are broken… The force shall free me." 

Finally, he leans back - golden eyes meet your own once again. "This is the way of the Sith… _not_ the Jedi."

Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment. Damnit, he's right. Jedi don't turn to passionate acts to reassert control, and that's exactly what you did earlier - and what you want to do now. It might have worked for Maul's grief, but it can’t work for yours. You need to talk to Boone. He cared about those men as much as you did - possibly even more, considering they were his brothers. Yet he carries the weight of grief excellently; continuing to prove to be a valuable asset to whichever Jedi and the battalions that you are assigned to assist. He must have some advice on how to get through it.

"Fine." His grip on your neck relaxes, "I'll go speak to Boone."

You go to get up, but he stops you.

"Ah, it is currently five-hundred hours. I suggest waiting a little longer."

You glance at the clock on the far wall, and realise he is in fact correct. With the knowledge that you are not going anywhere, Maul settles back down and reaches over to pluck a datapad from his bedside.

"Sleep, Y/N. I may be no expert on humans, but I know they require more sleep than what you've had."

"We do. I do." You’ll admit it. Whilst your aches and pains have gone you definitely still feel the heaviness beckoning you towards unconsciousness. "But I'll just end up having nightmares again. I always do after missions like that."

"Then why not meditate on it? Don't you Jedi often dispel your strongest emotions into the force?"

"I can't meditate to that level around _you_ , your force signature is like a black hole. Sure, you haven't felt cold to me since the bond formed, but you still cloud the force with it."

"That explains why you _pretended_ to meditate so much on Maluterra," his eyes are on the datapad, but a small smile catches his lips. Stars, he looks beautiful underneath the light of sunrise. "So what were you _truly_ up to? If you were not meditating?

"I did meditate a little, but it was more surface level…" You feel yourself growing hot. Thank the force he's half-listening. "I mostly tried to get a hold of my conflicting feelings for you."

His lips turn up into a half smile, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. He projects his feelings through the force, _safe-content-concerned_ , and you settle back down into the soft sheets. You know better than to snuggle into him - he’s likely working - but you don’t need to. His presence at your back gives you all the reassurance you need. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. He’ll still be there when you wake…

Which is around _midday_.

You wake suddenly. Wake to the sound of him barking what must be orders, but it’s hard to tell considering he’s speaking… Mando’a? You should probably care, but you don’t. Instead you rub the sleep from your eyes and check the clock - then gasp as you see it’s 12:43. 

He’s still on the holocall when you leave the bedroom, washed and dressed in robes you’d - thankfully - had the foresight to keep here in case of emergencies. He glances up from the Mandalorian he’s speaking to briefly; just long enough to give you a nodded goodbye. 

_I’ll be back_.

_I’ll be waiting._

\--

The sun has long since set when you return. 

Maul is out on the balcony when you let yourself in. You could tell he was meditating as soon as he started half-hour ago. Boone had noticed your change in demeanour as the anger and hate seared through the bond, but you had been sitting in that restaurant for long enough anyway. He bid you goodnight as he headed to 79’s, and you pretended you were heading back to the Temple before sneaking up here.

“You’re disrupting the force,” He mumbles as you step out to join him. He’s cross-legged on the durasteel floor, but the chill of the night air doesn’t disturb him. You, however, tug your robes around you a little tighter.

“No, _that’s_ you. I’m balancing it. Or trying to anyway.”

He drops his shoulders and peaks one eye open to look up at you. 

“Somebody is feeling better.”

“How could you tell?”

“I’m yet to be force-pinned to the glass wall.”

You blush, and a deep chuckle erupts from his chest.

“Yeah, I… Uh…” You cough, thinking back to last night as he stands. It was good. Of _course_ it was good, but it was extremely uncharacteristic and absolutely _not_ the Jedi way. “I’m sorry about that. I was overtired, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“I never _complained_ about it,” he points out, lowering the hood of your robe so that he can cradle your face in his hands, “I should be the one apologising.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I knew what you were doing, but I was enjoying it far too much to try and stop you.”

“I wouldn’t have tried to stop you either,” You place your hands over his, melting into the sincerity of his golden eyes - so very at odds with his Sith nature.

“My using passion to navigate emotions is entirely in-tune with the way of the Sith. I knew what you were doing was… wrong for a Jedi. I have no excuse.”

“Fancy that,” You smirk, “A Sith apologising for letting a Jedi connect with the Dark.”

“Yes, well, I am not necessarily the child-eating villain your order would believe me to be.”

His eyes are glimmering with amusement now, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Was your Captain helpful, then?” He asks, still holding you as though you’re the most delicate thing in the universe. He’s so close that his warm breath fans against your face. His musky, Earthly scent has your heart fluttering.

“Very. He was glad I wanted to talk about the clones. The ones we lost, that is. He said that he hates how clone deaths are swept under the rug, so it was reassuring to hear that I didn’t want to just pretend they never existed. Not that Boone thought of me as being so cold, but he wasn’t sure if all the Jedi are stoic… people do tend to think I will be, considering my master was Mace Windu.”

“Hmm, I have heard of his skills. He would be a worthy opponent.”

You’d scold him for saying that, but you also think it might be a compliment? Not wanting to ruin the potential of it being the latter, you decide to let it slide.

“How was your day, anyway? Make much progress with that Mandalorian guy?”

“I don’t think you really want me to answer that, darling,” He grins wickedly, and it sends a shiver up your spine. “Thank you for asking though. Come, it’s much too cold outside for you to be comfortable. Have you eaten?”

“I had dinner with Boone,” you nod, letting the balcony door slide shut behind you. “I feel a little restless, though. I slept for so long - and I’m around eighty percent sure that you force healed me last night.”

“You think that I would force heal a Jedi? _Never_.”

You roll your eyes at the grin he flashes your way. He settles onto the couch as you drift to the kitchen, and he watches on as you set the kettle to boil. 

“I want to do something _fun_. I’d really like to… go somewhere.”

“Well, as endearing as I am sure that would be, I hardly think the rest of Coruscant are going to react well to a Jedi Knight waltzing around with a Sith Lord.”

“You’ve got a ship don’t you? And I’ve got a week off… let's go somewhere.”

“Where do you propose we go?” You can feel his force signature dancing with glee. He really wants to laugh at you, but he is doing everything he can to remain poised. 

“I don’t know-- the Outer Rim, maybe? Isn’t there any planets we can go to where we can just be… _not_ a Jedi, or a Sith?”

He can’t contain it. Maul erupts into a fit of laughter, clutching a hand to his stomach as he allows his shoulders to be shaken by it. He’s always found you entertaining - you know this much from your time stuck on that force-forsaken planet - and yet you have never seen him laugh like _this._ You want to be mad. You want to pout and storm out of the penthouse… but it’s so utterly adorable that you decide his entire existence is absolutely unfair. No one person should have the ability to turn someone to mush the way he does with you.

“Apologies…” He takes a moment to recollect himself as you set his tea down on the coffee table. 

“You’re a dick.”

You’re smiling as you say it, so it’s not like it holds any real meaning.

“Darling, I will aim to find somewhere that we can go together. I am afraid, considering your stardom amongst the universe, that just isn’t feasible at present.”

“What? I’m not famous?”

“No, but you have been running numerous missions with Jedi who _are_ \- I am confident you would be recognised by at least one individual no matter where we go.”

Stupid HoloNet. 

“Even in the Outer Rim?”

“No, not there - though I do suspect they would be attempting to make bargains with the Order if they saw a Jedi and a Sith together. You don’t want the pirates and outlaws of the universe spreading tales of us to your council, do you?”

“You can stop them,” You pout, at which Maul rolls his eyes.

“Ah, yes. Shall I have my second-in-command spend the week contacting the entirety of the Outer Rim, to tell them that my Jedi bonded would love to pop in for a date? So they should keep their mouths shut unless they want a lightsaber through their chests?”

“I won’t wear my robes. I’ll pretend to be a bounty hunter.”

“Oh, Y/N, you could dress in rags and yet everyone would know from the way you _carry_ yourself that you are a Jedi.”

You purse your lips and drop your eyes to your tea with how he’s looking at you; brows raised as though he’s trying to explain something obvious to a youngling. 

“Fine. We’ll stay here.”

“That may be the most sensible thing you have said all evening.”

He's right, but it still hurts all the same… Oh, how you wish things could be different. You wonder if anyone in the Temple is hiding a secret relationship. Are there Jedi who have fallen for one another? At least they can be seen together in some capacity - as friends at least. You couldn't even walk down a Coruscanti street within two feet of Maul without a terrified civilian begging you to arrest him.

"Come here."

You had been staring into space. You realise this as you flick your eyes back over to him. Maul is openly allowing himself to take in your appearance; wearing a look of appreciation as he leans back against the couch and pats the top of his thigh. Gesturing for you to sit.

The way he’s eyeing you up has your tummy doing somersaults. If he’s trying to take your mind off of everything - it’s working. He’s widened his legs enough that you wouldn’t be able to sit on his lap entirely, so you perch yourself on one thigh - allowing him to wrap one arm around your waist whilst the other settles on your knee.

“Good,” he praises you delicately. Taking a moment to drink in the sight of you up close. His gaze is so _soft_ as his eyes flicker from your own to your lips, your cheeks, your nose, then back to your lips. They settle there for longer now… and you can feel it through the force. The bright warmth of his feelings and dark flames of his desire merging into one. It stokes the embers of your own need for him; making you want to squirm as your breaths become shallow. “Now kiss me.”

Slowly, you let your hands rise until you’re holding his face. You let your fingers fan out across his cheeks, thumbs brushing against the edge of his lips as your pinky fingers press against his jawline. Stars, he’s bone-achingly _beautiful_. Your eyes trace the tattoos adorning his bright skin and - not for the first time - you’re lost to just how the tones of your skin contrast. He tightens his hold on your knee, and it’s this that finally has you giving in. You lean in closer, taking the time to watch as his eyes drift closed… Enjoying the exact moment that he leaves everything aside to appreciate nothing but the sensation of your touch. Your proximity. Your kiss.

You do it gently. Taking his lower lip between yours. Pressing yourself closer. Then he joins in - moving his lips in sync with yours. You wind your arms around his neck as he glides his tongue into your mouth. It’s not rushed or desperate. No. This is terrifyingly calm. Eerily slow. He takes his time, as though he is trying to memorise the exact pressure you like when he bites your lip. 

You don’t try to straddle him. You don’t start undressing him, and he doesn’t try to undress you. You just enjoy the moment. He’s so warm. So fiercely alive in the force. His emotions entwine with your own, so much so that you’re not sure where his end and yours begin - but it doesn’t matter. You’re running in parallel. No. You’re running like two cords that have become impossibly entangled. Your thread of blue is so tightly wrapped around his thread of red that you swear you’re going to glow an entirely different colour by the end of all this.

He draws back, and you know he’s going to do it before he even bothers to. Your breaths are in sync as his half-lidded eyes meet your own.

“Please say it.”

You know what it is. What this means. Maul does too, but he can’t bring himself to say it first. Your heart beats faster in your chest, threatening to burst under the weight of it all. You shouldn’t. Oh, you _know_ that you absolutely shouldn’t say it… but you can’t carry this all on your own. This is an unbearable weight that you could never possibly burden yourself with - not alone.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words suck the breath from his chest. Cause his hands to tighten on your thigh and waist… but nothing in the force changes. Because it’s something that was already there. Something that has built up and up until it refused to be excused or pushed aside any longer. 

“As… as I am with you, my love.”

The salt of your tears merges with your kisses now, and your hands are shaking from where they sit on his shoulders. You’re so afraid. So painfully afraid, but it isn’t making you want to run. No. If anything, it makes you kiss him that much harder. You finally stand when it becomes too much. When the wool of your tunics feels rough and scratchy against your flushed skin. He follows, standing too as you walk backwards towards the bedroom. You can’t break eye contact as you go. By the time your back hits the wall beside the doorway you’re completely naked. 

As is he.

“Well,” his voice shakes as he presses his body against your own. Large hands capture yours in their grasp, interlocking your fingers as he pushes them up against either side of your head. “You _did_ say you wanted me to have you against the wall.”

“I did,” you breathe… and, again, you move in sync. His left hand falls to catch your hip as you jump to wind your legs around his waist. His lips gravitate to yours once more, moving hot and languid against your own as he presses into you. Neither of you needs foreplay this time. Not with how slow and hot you’ve allowed the burning desire to build.

“I love you,” falls from your lips through the sigh that the feeling of him sinking into you evokes. He stretches you perfectly; stroking you in all the right places. It’s as though he was _made_ for you. You know better than to believe it, considering you are a Jedi and he is a Sith, but you’ll be damned if the explosion of emotions you’re experiencing right now couldn’t convince you otherwise.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whispers, then breaks your kiss to press his lips to your ear. “Please, never leave.”

“Where would I g-go?” You're adamant that he’s showing you the stars just by rocking his hips into yours.

“ _Anywhere_. I deserve none of this. You’re-- _hells_ , so good. Full of light.”

You move together in a way that makes it seem orchestrated, your force signatures are so tightly bound. Dancing a dance as old as the force itself. How did you manage to convince yourself that acts like this are full of darkness? The force has never felt so colourful. It sings around you, and you swear that - if it was a visible, tangible thing - it would be glowing far brighter than any Jedi or Sith has ever seen. It’s so beautiful. So sacred and breathtaking and right that it puts anything you have ever known before to shame. 

“We’re balanced,” you stammer. You can feel your orgasms building in perfect harmony. Maul’s breath comes out hot and fast into the crook of your neck. He kisses you there, sucking at the spot that sends shivers down your spine.

_I am so in love with you._

The thought rings clear and true through your connection. You’re not sure if he initiated it or if you did, but it hardly matters. It may be the one thing in the universe that the two of you are completely sure of. The one, single thing in the galaxy that you will _always_ agree on - no matter what happens. You _were_ made for each other. You are two halves to a whole. The force screams for you; it weeps for you when you are apart and cheers for you when you are together. It bonded you for a purpose. It drew you together because this is _exactly_ where you are supposed to be.

You both cry out as your pleasure sends you head-first into a burst of ecstasy. He’s buried to the hilt and your back arches from the wall, pushing your chest into his own. You don’t care that the attention he gives your neck is likely to leave a mark. _Let it_. Let them see. Let the entire universe see the true power of the force.


	4. Chapter 4

"Have you practiced _once_ since our training sessions?"

You eye the furniture pushed up against the walls so that you don't have to meet his eyes. He's giving you that cocksure glower that used to make you want to punch his lights out. Now… well, it _still_ makes you want to punch his lights out. Out of everything you could be doing with your week off, it _had_ to end up being training with a kriffing Sith.

"I _couldn't_!" You hiss through gritted teeth, flicking your gaze from a cabinet to the couch. "You really want me to start practicing saber techniques _you_ taught me at the Temple? With a duel-bladed saber? And you expect _no one_ will ask me where I learnt it all?"

"You could have snuck off, Y/N. That is a dire excuse."

You growl as you reignite the blades and grip the saber with one hand… Of course, the light beaming from each end does not hold any weight, but Maul is underestimating the hilt's weight difference in comparison to your own lightsaber! And yes, maybe he's right about how you could have trained elsewhere, but you just didn't want to.

"Now, I want you to _attack_."

"I can't use Juyo! I don't understand why you're so adamant I learn how to use this kriffing saber. I hate using more than one blade!”

"I will feel somewhat better knowing you can utilise any saber that you may find yourself stuck with. If you were to lose your saber in the middle of combat now, can you honestly tell me that you would survive?"

"No!" You bring the right side of the saber down so that it crashes into his darksaber. Then, you swing the other end round so that he has to duck or risk being cut in half from the waist up. "I _would_ like to remind you that nine out of ten of my battles are against droids. With _blasters._ If this is battle practice, you'd be best off coming at me with an E-5!"

"Disgusting," His face wrinkles up, "Do you expect to lose your force sensitivity?"

" _No._ "

"Then _why_ would you bother yourself with blasters?"

"That's a ridiculous way to look at it!" You scoff. Unbelievable. "Do you have any idea how hypocritical you sound?"

He swings at you now, but you know the move he's employing from back on Maluterra. Back when you were stuck together with no source of entertainment other than training. He acts as though he is going for your exposed arm, then suddenly slices the blade upwards as though he wants to catch your head or chest. You swing to the side from his initial blow and then let the darksaber hit the fiery red of the saber in your hand.

"Sloppy!" He snaps, "my next move would be to jab forwards and stab you through the torso. Lucky for you, I rather _like_ your torso."

You're seething as you power down the lightsaber and throw it to the ground. He looks down at it - completely appalled - and then turns narrowed eyes back to you.

"And they let _you_ train younglings?"

Your rage burns bright in the force, so you turn your back and tune him out. The dark is too powerful for you to meditate, but you _are_ able to gain some sort of grasp on it and dispel some of the fury before you can literally go for his throat. Thankfully he has enough respect for you to let you calm down. Part of you knows he will be scoffing at you 'dispelling the anger when it could be used as fuel' - but he would not do that to you, just as you would not demand of him to start releasing all his power to the Light.

"Right," You're significantly cooler when you turn back around. He's holding both lightsabers now, powering them up and settling into his Juyo stance. The duel bladed saber is held out in front of him, as is the norm, but the darksaber remains behind him. The blade is pointed down towards the floor. You suspect he has used this technique many times to distract his prey with the duel-saber's flare so that the darksaber could strike by surprise.

Now, that _would_ be a sight to behold. Your breath catches at the thought of him, smirking brilliantly as he dances amongst flashes of red and black. 

"I can feel your arousal, my love." 

"I wasn't trying to hide it."

He grins, then twirls the duel-blade before jolting forwards with the darksaber. He does project his plans before enacting them, so it gives you good time to sidestep and jump back… the darksaber whistles at your throat, so close that you can see the thin webbed lines of white running through the blackened blade.

"That thing is hot," you say shamelessly, enjoying the haunting way that the darksaber sings. So at odds with the hum of your average lightsaber. "Can't I use that instead."

"A Jedi hasn't wielded this blade in decades. It would be an insult to my soldiers to let you do so."

"Like you _care_ ," you snort… To which he smiles before powering it down and slotting it back into his belt. "Hey!"

"I will let you play with that saber when you actually take the duel-bladed saber seriously. For now, I’m bored - come along.”

The force suddenly winds around your wrist and tugs you towards the bedroom. Your heart jolts as you momentarily picture him pushing you to the bed and fighting with your robes… but you’re lightly pulled to the bathroom, where Maul immediately lets his clothes drop to the ground.

You wonder if he knows that he is a walking, talking piece of art?

Terrifying, yes. From experience you know that his horns are sharp, and many find the near-glow of Sith eyes to be discomforting… But ever since you met, you have been mesmerised by his tattoos. He’d told you they symbolise the clan he had belonged to before he left to become a Sith. You step forwards to trace the edge of the blackout tattoo covering a good portion of his back - starting from his shoulder blade and travelling downwards until you are almost stroking the ridges of his spine. His higher body temperature feels particularly warm to your cold hands; but you’re not sure if it’s the chill or your touch that causes him to shudder.

“Strip.”

He’s clinging to the sink, meeting your eyes through your reflection in the mirror as he uses the force to turn on the shower. Heat pools in your tummy at the command - pouring gasoline on the flicker of desire he’d stoked when displaying his lightsaber prowess. You’re unfastening your belt in a heartbeat, dry mouthed and helpless to the enraptured way he watches you. He’s completely shameless as his gaze traces your breasts and falls to watch your trousers slide down your legs.

“Good,” he breathes, still clutching the sink as he adds: “Now touch yourself.”

Your face flushes deeply. Stars, you weren’t expecting that. You think back to Maluterra… The one night you had no choice but to give in to your desire. You’d been training in hand-to-hand combat that day. Both of you ended up worked up to a frenzied degree. In the end he had to head off to hunt, and when you stepped back into the cabin to shower… 

He flashes you a grin.

“Yes, sweetling. Just like that time on Maluterra.” 

Oh. So he _did_ know. He knew, yet he was polite enough to ignore it… until now. You bite your lip, but do as you’ve been told. You slowly bring your hand to your clit.

“Do you know what that did to me?” His voice takes on a rasp as his eyes settle between your legs. “I could _feel_ it through the bond. I knew you were trying your best to hide it, but we were so in-tune with one another after our training. I wanted to help so desperately, but I knew that you wouldn’t allow it. So I hunted, and I tried everything I could to ignore your budding orgasm… My turning a blind eye couldn’t block out the way it lit up our bond. Like lightning. It was _torture_.”

Your fingers are slick with arousal, so you use it to ease your touch. To circle your clit a little harder. You’ve been biting your lower lip for so long now that you’re starting to think it might bleed, but you can’t stop. The way you’re working yourself up is just like you had in that little shower. Back then, you had clamped your free hand over your mouth as the other fought to get you off. You had guiltily pictured Maul’s mouth in the place of your fingers as you internally pleaded with the Order to forgive you for your betrayal.

Suddenly, he’s turning to face you properly. His hand pulls yours away from your clit and he slides your dampened fingers into his mouth, rolling his tongue over them to clean you completely of your own slick. His eyes drift closed in pleasure, and you swallow thickly. The act has another wave of heat flooding between your legs.

“To think I have you now,” his pupils are blown when he opens his eyes again. “That I have had you a number of times. That I can still have you again… Stars.”

Your heart is hammering as he closes the distance, _finally_ slipping his tongue into your mouth and grabbing you to sit you on the sink in front of him. His hips settle against the soft skin of your inner thighs, radiating heat and sinful promises that send jolts of arousal to the pit of your stomach. Calloused fingers dig themselves into your outer thighs as he lifts you again, and you can't stop from gasping as he carries you with no effort at all. He sucks and nips at the sensitive spot on your neck as you find your back pressed flush against the wet tiles, and as the spray of the shower remains ignored you swear that there is nothing better than this. 

Then, you realise that this position has you facing the mirror.

Nothing has made your differences hit home quite like the sight sitting before you. His crown of horns versus your hair. His jet-black tattoos versus your unmarked skin… Stars above, it's like something out of an X-rated holo movie. Your cheeks are flushed and eyes hooded as you drink it up. You can see the way the muscles of his back flex as his straining cock brushes your slick opening. Your reflection gazes at you wantonly as she grips his shoulders for purchase - and you're unable to look away from the sinful image you both create. 

Your eyes become glued to the curve of his ass as his head pushes into you. He barely moves, but his cheeks and thighs tense as a quiet moan rolls off his tongue. You can't help but clamp down around him at the sight and feel of it all combined. He chokes, so presumably this took him by surprise, but this only urges him on to begin thrusting. The sight of his hips rocking into yours is almost too much. It's beautiful. It's downright filthy. You swear you could watch it for the rest of your life and it still wouldn't be long enough.

"Are you enjoying the show?" He drawls, voice made husky and broken by the rock of his hips. "Does my pretty little Jedi enjoy watching herself get fucked by her Sith Lord?"

"Yes," it comes out as a hoarse rasp. You want it to sound sexier. You want to be able to talk back in earnest - but you're completely fixated on his reflection as he pauses to thrust into you with long, languid strokes that are both teasing yet deliciously good. It's the way his muscles work under his skin, tensing and rolling as you feel the grip of his calloused fingers tighten. It's so fucking beautiful. You haven't seen anything as magnificent in all your life.

"I should have done this by the sink. Sunk myself into you and fucked you from behind. Let you watch my fingers toy with your clit - let you catch sight of my cock disappearing inside of you. Watch your eyes glaze over in the reflection as I work you to the brink of madness."

If you were a droid you'd say you've short circuited. Your wires have got crossed. You've lost your cognitive functioning abilities. All you're able to focus on is the abyss of ecstasy his shorter, quickening strokes are pushing you towards. You feel a bead of sweat trail down the valley of your breasts as he sucks at that spot on your neck that has you writhing in his hold.

_Please, Lord. Fucking wet. So hot. Want to cum._

"Mmm, you truly are _very_ wet for me. You always are - my sweet little padawan."

_Stars above. Kriffing hell._

"Puh-Please!"

His breathy chuckle has his chest vibrating as it presses into your breasts.

"I suspected that would rile you up further. Do you like it when I call you that?"

" _Yes, Mast-ugh._ "

He bites your neck as the force begins to tease your aching clit, softly circling it in the exact way you like. Your legs clamp tighter around his waist as your thighs twitch, and a drawn-out whine falls from your kiss-swollen lips. You dig your nails into his back and draw them down - evoking a delicious moan from him as he slaps his right hand above your head to maneuver his angle. 

He hits that delicious spot inside you with expert precision.

"Shhh-- gonna-- fuckMast-- _please_."

He starts snapping out words in the Sith language, and it's at that point that you officially lose your mind. You can't think coherently, or manage to say anything other than half-words or cried out moans. He fills you so completely, strokes your walls and hits all the right spots with such perfection, you have no power over the mind-shattering orgasm that claws a scream of his name from you.

He growls your name as you feel him fall. The hot ropes of his orgasm settle deep inside you; the feel of it has you tightening around him as it draws out the last of your own euphoric high. A shiver runs down your spine, but your legs keep trembling long after the moment has passed.

"Stars," He groans, then captures your lips with his own to give you a languid kiss. Eventually he slides out of you, then proceeds to walk you both to the shower's spray. It must be cold for him, but judging from the sweat coating his skin you assume he doesn't mind too much.

You should get down, but you're eyeing your reflection and how she clings to him. The reverential, sated look in her eyes. The pleasant flush coating her skin…

"Perfect," He presses a kiss to your temple, "Though that training session was still abysmal."

"For force sake," you sigh. "Five minutes peace. Can I at least have that?"

"You are a talented dueller, but I just worry th--mph."

Your hand clamps firmly over his lips, at which his brow furrows.

_I worry that it will not be enough to save you. You need to be able to use more than one singular blade. I would have expected the Jedi’s teachings to include--_

"It's kept me alive this long!" You groan, unwrapping yourself from him so that you can reach for the shampoo. He plucks it from your hand before you can so much as pop the lid, then squeezes it onto his own hand.

"The irony of having Jedi call the Sith arrogant," he grumbles, his fingers sliding over your scalp as he works the suds into a lather. It's so… unexpected. So intimate. So strange to have someone else doing this for you. You think the heat blooming through your chest might have you turning into a puddle by the end of it. It doesn't matter that he's nagging you. You can't find it in yourself to care. Your anger evaporates at the way his fingers gently run through your hair.

"You humans and your hair,” He chuckles. “As soon as I started doing this… It’s as though a lothcat has caught your tongue.”

“You caught me off-guard,” You grumble back. He drops his hands away, so you take a minute to stand back under the water to rinse it out. “The Temple does teach duel-wielding, but we were not trained to be soldiers. Our lightsabers are to help keep the peace. It is easier to master one than two, so I elected to focus on the _one_ I have. My use of Soresu is better with one saber.”

“Did your master teach you this nonsense?”

This draws a laugh from you, catapulting you back to a memory of your teen self in the Temple training rooms. Master Windu’s eyes imploring as he shut off his purple saber against your stubbornness.

“No,” You giggle. “He wanted me to learn Juyo. Or his own version - he calls it Vaapad. But I spent a lot of my free time training with--” you quickly cover your pause by clearing your throat, “with a friend. They favoured Soresu, and I fell in love with it as much as they had.”

“Kenobi.”

You blink at him, breath catching at the fire in his eyes. His hatred for him explodes like a miniature nuclear bomb in the force… Yet his face remains calm. His chest rises and falls slowly and evenly. 

“Yeah, he… I’d just been chosen as Master Windu’s padawan when he was knighted. I’d train with him quite often, as a teenager. Anakin, too.”

“Well,” his voice is awkward but oddly calm as he rolls his eyes, “Trust Kenobi to be the reason I cannot pull you away from weaker techniques.”

It’s there. On the tip of your tongue. Your eyes dart down to the metal of his legs - but you stop yourself. Maul can sithsplain your lightsaber techniques from sunrise to sunset, but you refuse to believe that any technique is going to work for you better than Soresu. Not when it was able to defeat him. It’s the very thing that sold you _on_ this technique. You had stood before a knighted Obi-Wan, your padawan braid swinging against your shoulder, as he told you the truth of it - _were it not for Soresu, I would have been cut down by the Sith Lord… I cut him down instead._

It’s a damn good job he chose that moment to dip under the water. You know he would have been able to guess what you’re thinking about otherwise.

“I yield,” he finally sighs exaggeratedly, “No duel blades. Just… take care of yourself.”

Your lips twitch into a grin as he opens his eyes, heart skipping at the warmth in his gaze.

“I will. I promise.”

“Good,” He nods. “And no more three-day battles without sleep.”

“Then no more shady meetings with the scum of the universe,” You quip.

“We are not getting into that argument. It is a battle that you are sure to lose.”

“Then stop lecturing me on how I should and shouldn’t do my duty, and I won’t try bringing up whatever it is you and your little spice lords and mandos do.”

Maul rolls his eyes, but you consider that to be a victory when he doesn’t say anything else. 

All talk of lightsaber techniques and training is put behind you for now as you dress and settle into the couch. You’ve slipped on one of his outer tunics to wear as a robe, whilst Maul is dressed in nothing but underwear. You’re starting to doze off, half-listening to whatever holovid he’s put on when your commlink bleeps at you from the coffee table.

“Shit,” you hiss, jumping up and gesturing for him to pause what he’s watching. He does as you ask, eyeing you warily as you hit the answer button.

“ _Knight Y/L/N, where are you?_ ”

“Master Windu?” Your voice is just a little too high, giving away your surprise. “I-- I have the week off. I decided to take a break away from the Temple.”

“ _Are you on Coruscant?_ ”

“Yes, Master… Is everything alright?”

“ _The council apologises for having to ask this, but we have no other option. Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker and Padawan Tano have had a mission of theirs take a turn for the worst. We need you to head out there and help however you can. Please report to the council as soon as possible. We’ll debrief you fully once you have arrived._ ”

“I’ll be there soon!”

You toss the commlink down and rush to the bathroom, not caring that your robes are gross from your training as you shrug out of Maul’s tunics and tug on your own.

“You needed this respite,” Maul growls from the doorway. “Surely someone on the Council could help them?”

“It’s already risky having Obi-Wan in danger, we can’t risk more than one Master like that. If they’re pulling me in from my time off then it has to be bad. I have to go.”

“And what of your safety? If Kenobi and Skywalker have got themselves in trouble, who is Windu to say that you will not end up stuck in that same danger?”

“They’re my _friends_ , Maul! I know you’ve suddenly got this weird obsession with me not being in danger, but you need to remember that we’re at _war_ and that I can’t just sit cooped up in this damn penthouse for the rest of it!”

You feel his anger sizzling through your bond. He wants to bite back. You can feel his indignance flaring at your words… but you’re pulling him into a searing kiss before he gets the chance, and you feel the anger break apart at your touch. In the end, he’s grabbing at your belt and pulling you closer.

“I love you,” you breathe as you have to pull away. 

“And I you,” he responds in earnest, holding on just a little while longer before he knows he _has_ to let you go.


	5. Chapter 5

I have now posted the next chapter of this fic under a different story, as I've been having some technical issues with this one. You will find it on my profile :) I will continue to update it under Part II.


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